


Run Deep

by SelenaEstella



Category: Bleach
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:31:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelenaEstella/pseuds/SelenaEstella
Summary: It’s not unusual for scars to ache before rain.I wanted to try my hand at a Grimmjow hurt/comfort that's outside the usual themes.





	Run Deep

**Author's Note:**

> I often wonder about my characterisation when it comes to these two. I always wanna write soft things about hard characters :0
> 
> Sort of a companion to _An Apology_ , but not set in the same 'verse.

Coming home to find that his bedroom had been invaded was not as uncommon as it should’ve been. Yeah, the days of Rukia bunking in his closet and shinigami falling through the ceiling light were over, for the most part, but as Ichigo closed his door, he only did one double take at the sight of an open window and occupied mattress.

It wasn’t that unusual for Grimmjow to turn up uninvited - they’d been hanging out more in the human world recently, enjoying Karakaru’s late winter. But it _was_ unusual for him to be asleep, rather than awake and complaining loudly. Ichigo slowly slid his bag off his shoulder, watching Grimmjow as he breathed. On top of the covers, fully clothed, curled loosely with his shoes still on, it didn’t didn’t look as though Grimmjow had planned on falling asleep… Had he simply dropped off while waiting? How long had he been there?

The room wasn’t all that cold, so probably not long. Ichigo quietly approached the bed. He knew that sleep was more a luxury than a necessity for Hollows. You could only make yourself vulnerable like that when you had allies to watch your back. It was less of an issue for Arrancar, but still, Ichigo felt touched that Grimmjow could relax enough in his room to drop off like that. Smiling softly, he took off his jacket and laid it over Grimmjow’s shoulders, before leaning across him to close the window. Then Ichigo sat at his desk and reluctantly got out his homework.

-

Nearly an hour later and Grimmjow still hadn’t woken up, hadn’t moved, even, except to shift slightly in his sleep. Ichigo had long since stopped writing his essay, doodling on a spare piece of paper instead. This wasn’t normal for Grimmjow. He was a light sleeper. Even after long rounds of sex he was always the first to wake up.

Was it a good idea to wake him, though? His breathing was steady, and there was no blood to indicate a wound. Was he really just that tired?

As Ichigo watched, Grimmjow finally stirred, sitting up abruptly and blinking in groggy surprise as Ichigo’s jacket slid off him.

“Have a nice catnap?” Ichigo snarked. Grimmjow shook his head and rubbed his eyes, before slinging his legs onto the floor and stretching out his neck.

“Shit,” he mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep. “What time is it?”

Ichigo checked his phone. “Almost five. Why?”

Grimmjow gave his head another shake. “Didn’t think I’d fuckin’ pass out like that,” he said grumpily. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

Ichigo set down his pencil, deciding his homework was over for the night. “You looked like you needed it,” he said honestly. “Besides, wouldn’t you attack me if I woke you suddenly?”

“Probably.”

Ichigo frowned. The sun had long set, and the only light came from Ichigo’s desk lamp - Grimmjow was hard to see in the darkness, but something about him seemed… off?

“Grimmjow-”

“I don’t feel good.” Grimmjow ran a hand roughly through his hair. Ichigo blinked at him for a moment, slightly stunned, before jumping up to turn the ceiling light on.

“You’re injured?”

“No. Well, shit, I don’t think so.”

Ichigo went back to his desk and grabbed his chair, pulling it around so he could sit facing Grimmjow, who watched him without emotion. He was playing it cool, but something was deeply troubling him. Ichigo could see it in the sharp line of his jaw, in the slight pinch of his eyebrows.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, slipping calmly into medic mode. Grimmjow huffed a frustrated sigh and didn’t meet Ichigo’s gaze.

“My shoulder, it… It doesn’t fucking move right.” Ichigo tried not to look too concerned, but he couldn’t help the worry stirring in his gut.

“Can I see?”

“Go ahead. ’S why I’m here.” Grimmjow shrugged out of his jacket and unzipped the top of his jumpsuit, pulling it down enough to reveal the jagged crescent scar. Ichigo scooted his chair forward and, after a nod of permission, ran his hands over the old wound, pressing lightly.

“How does that feel?” he asked.

“It hurts,” Grimmjow admitted. Ichigo frowned harder.

“How far up can you get your arm?” Grimmjow raised his arm stiffly until his elbow was level with his shoulder, then stopped. Not even close to the range of movement Ichigo knew he normally had.

“What’s wrong with it?” Grimmjow asked tersely, as Ichigo guided his arm back down to his side.

“It’s the scar tissue, I think.” Ichigo followed the wound, feeling around the curve where it ran over muscle and bone. “It’s inflamed and tensed up, compressing your nerves.”

“Bullshit,” Grimmjow snarled, jerking away. “I’ve had this scar for years and it’s _never_ done that.”

“That isn’t my fault!” Ichigo retorted, taking the incentive to lean back. “I’m just telling it like it is.”

“Well how do I get it to stop? It’s a pain in the ass.”

“There’s medication,” Ichigo replied. “Otherwise I think there are types of physical therapy?”

He wasn’t a doctor yet, not a GP and definitely not a specialist. Treating a human would be illegal. But he could offer Grimmjow advice, and he did know a bit about scar tissue. He did know about the complications that could arise if a wound wasn’t tended to immediately and correctly, if it didn’t heal the right way.

The look Grimmjow gave him was flat and unimpressed. It took Ichigo a moment to remember that maybe, conventional treatments weren’t really practical for a dead guy from another dimension.

Come to think of it, he didn’t know what treatment Grimmjow had received in the first place. Las Noches had a medical facility, but he had no idea if Grimmjow had gone there or if he’d simply slunk off into the desert to let his natural healing take care of the wounds. Whichever it was, Ichigo didn’t think the injuries had ever been sutured - the pattern of the scarring was too uneven.

“Let me see the others.”

“Oi-”

Ichigo pulled Grimmjow’s jumpsuit further open. He examined the long, ragged scar down the centre of Grimmjow’s chest; then a smaller, much deeper one further down, just above the void in Grimmjow’s abdomen.

Ichigo knew this wound. Remembered causing it. Zangetsu had pierced deep into Grimmjow’s body and effectively ended the battle.

“Does this ache too?”

Grimmjow hesitated a moment, torn between letting Ichigo work and reclaiming his personal space. “A bit.”

Ichigo probed the scar with his hand, felt it stretch as Grimmjow breathed. A human would have a chunk of scar tissue hanging out with their organs. A human would have all kinds of problems. He wasn’t completely certain what Arrancar used their internal organs  _for_ , only that they had them, and they were important enough that…

Ichigo prodded harder. Grimmjow squirmed backwards.

“I said my shoulder, that one’s  _fine_.”

“Yeah but-”

“Ichigo.” A warm, heavy hand fell on the back of his head. Ran through his hair. Gave him a shake. “Chill the fuck out. I’d know if I was dying.”

Ichigo leaned forward until his forehead met Grimmjow’s chest. “I know,” he sighed. “But you can only look at so many graphic pictures of injury and infection before getting paranoid.”

Grimmjow chuckled, low in his throat. Ichigo heard it rumble through his chest, which made him think of another thing-

“Wait here, I’m gonna get something from downstairs.”

“ _Seriously?_ ”

A few minutes later, Ichigo was back upstairs, weilding a stethoscope. He crawled onto the bed behind Grimmjow and pressed it against his back.

“Deep breaths in and out.”

Grimmjow did as he said, though he was clearly reluctant. Ichigo moved the chestpiece around, listening hard.

“How long is this going to take?” Grimmjow snapped. His hands were twisting in the sheets, a clear sign that he’d been sitting still too long. “I had one question, Ichigo.”

“Don’t talk,” Ichigo said distractedly. He knew that Askin had used poison, and that Urahara had provided an antidote, but still… “A human might have difficulty breathing, ok? I just want to check.”

“Good thing I’m not one then,” Grimmjow muttered.

Ichigo closed his eyes. He placed a hand on Grimmjow’s arm, gently. “Sorry,” he murmured, listening to the steady thud of Grimmjow’s heartbeat. “I guess this is more for my benefit now.”

Grimmjow sighed. Ichigo heard it rush through his lungs, and it sounded normal enough. He lowered the stethoscope and put it aside, folding over to press his forehead into the back of Grimmjow’s neck. This was new territory for both of them, and despite everything, Ichigo felt incredibly touched that Grimmjow had asked for help at all. But they had reached a line.

“Your diagnosis, doctor?” Grimmjow asked wryly. Ichigo slid his arms around Grimmjow’s waist.

“Your insides seem fine, somehow,” he said. “But your shoulder… When did it start?”

“A few of your days ago,” said Grimmjow - a few sunrises, he meant, since hours were the same everywhere, technically. “It rained on and off the whole time.”

“Rain…” That made sense, actually. Hueco Mundo wasn’t  _warm_ , but it was  _constant_ \- there were no changing seasons, or day-night cycles, or even rainstorms to effect the steady climate. The human world, on the other hand, had weather and sun and cycles, the human world  _changed_.

“Oh, wow, that sucks,” Ichigo said to himself.

"Yeah no shit,” said Grimmjow.

Ichigo pulled back and moved to sit next to Grimmjow on the edge of the mattress. “It’s something I’ve heard of before and it’s pretty common in humans, maybe Shinigami too - the air pressure and atmosphere are affecting the scar tissue, causing inflammation.”

Grimmjow narrowed his eyes. “Seriously?”

“Why would I lie?” said Ichigo, exasperated. “It’s a well-known condition. Heat is supposed to help, or I can see if we’ve still got a TENS unit.” He got up.

Grimmjow hooked Ichigo’s waist with his good arm and yanked him down, pulling Ichigo on top of him. Sprawled on the bed, Grimmjow ran a hand through Ichigo’s hair and pulled.

"So warm me up,” he ordered with a smirk.

Ichigo felt his cheeks go pink. “Seriously?” Damn, it was like hitting a switch. Grimmjow laughed throatily and ran his ran down Ichigo’s sides to give his ass a squeeze.

“You talked too long,” he complained, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I got bored.”

“Not here!” Ichigo yelped. “My sisters are down the hall!”

Grimmjow made an indignant noise and immediately went for the throat, biting the soft skin of Ichigo’s neck in a clear request for pleasure.  _Stop worrying_ , he was saying.  _It’s ok, it’s fine,_ I’m _fine. Stop worrying._

Ichigo caved. “How about a shower?”

-

An hour later and they were downstairs, basking in the heat of the kotatsu while the TV droned on in the background, comforting white noise. A weather warning had been issued - Karakura would experience heavy snowfall overnight. Maybe Ichigo should’ve been worried, because heavy snow always meant a busy day at the clinic, meant frostbite and hypothermia and car crashes and more.

But he felt warm and relaxed and incredibly comfortable, with Grimmjow sitting close beside him, head resting on his folded arms and dozing lightly. His shoulder was feeling better, at least if his flexibility early was anything to go by.

“Y’know, if Inoue can’t do anything now, maybe it’s time you took Urahara up on his offer,” Ichigo suggested quietly. “A gigai might help. Besides, Yuzu doesn’t like having guests she can’t cook for.”

Grimmjow open one eye and glanced up, conflicted. “I don’t like that guy,” he said.

Ichigo retrieved his hand from the kotatsu’s warm glow and began to play absently with Grimmjow’s damp hair. “Do you know anyone else who can make fake bodies?”

Grimmjow did his best to look like he only tolerated the petting, even if he leaned into it slightly. “Guess there’s no other choice, huh,” he said reluctantly.

“We’ll go tomorrow,” said Ichigo, glancing at the TV. “Well, if we can get out of the house.” The snow itself wouldn’t be much of a problem, not for them anyway, but Isshin’s overzealous attempts at snow-day fun were as inevitable as they were annoying.

Grimmjow reached his arms across the table and stretched, yawning widely, closing his teeth with a snap. “Sure,” he said. “And then what?”

“…Huh?”

“And then what?” Grimmjow repeated. “What do we do when everyone can see me?” His gaze was surprisingly intense. Ichigo could only hold it for a moment before looking away, needing to think.

“Well… That depends. We could go out. Go to the arcade or whatever.”

“Human things,” said Grimmjow.

“I guess,” Ichigo said slowly, not sure he liked where this was going. “Grimmjow, I’m not trying to _make_ you human. I just…”

“Just what?”

“I… I want to date you! And stuff!” Ichigo flung his hands in the air. “I want to go out with you and have people know we’re together! Is that weird?”

“Nah.” Grimmjow sat all the way up and Ichigo turned to look at him again. “I get what you mean.”

Ichigo narrowed his eyes. “You’d already figured it out,” he accused. “You just wanted me to say it.”

“So?” Grimmjow challenged lazily.

Ichigo kept up his pretend annoyance for another second before letting it drop. “So nothing, I guess.” He smiled. “Thanks I think.”

Grimmjow nudged his thigh under the table. Then he curled over again with another yawn.

 _Maybe the cold makes him tired, like it does with all cats_ , Ichigo thought, but what he said was, “you wanna go upstairs or has the kotatsu claimed another victim?”

Grimmjow’s response was a vague mumble into his folded arms. Ichigo considering getting up to retrieve a blanket from somewhere, but…

he was warm

and comfortable

and pleasantly tired, from both his typical day at college and the round of sex.

Even knowing he’d wake up with a stiff neck and numb arms and his dad leaping on top of him, Ichigo couldn’t bring himself to move. Not with Grimmjow right there, snoring lightly, a comforting presence on a cold night.

Yeah… this was fine.


End file.
